Starry Sky
by alberonas
Summary: Starting from the moment they collided and were sent crashing into one another's worlds, neither of their lives were ever the same. While fate stubbornly declared that they were meant for one another... it may take them a while to realize each other's worth. Prompts for Graylu Week.
1. Cold

_Author's Note: I'm so sorry this is late, but if you must know, I'm a die-hard Graylu shipper, so I just couldn't pass up this opportunity. Please forgive me for my incompetence._

_Disclaimer: oh, I wish._

_Prompt: Day 1- Cold_

_Other Info: this entire week's worth of AU's, probably, but I'll have to see. This one isn't, though; it's just... you'll see._

* * *

_"You put up your walls and paint them_

_all a shade of grey..."_

* * *

It wasn't that she was unhappy—for sure she wasn't. She acknowledged that well to the best of her ability.

The thing was that she simply_ hadn't_ recovered, _couldn't_ recover, and _didn't_ recover due to the fact that she had utterly ravaged herself and completely destroyed all her motivation for wiping clean her own slate of lies and, quite frankly,_ recovering_.

She didn't have it in her, and she knew that—_oh_, how she knew that.

That's right. Oh, for how many countless times had she struggled to clean up after herself and sweep away the shards that shattered her—_the incident_. And oh, the innumerable numbers of times she had tried—how _hard _she tried, no one would ever know (or so she'd long since assumed)—to just forget it, move on, and pretend that it was fine and that she wasn't hurting inside, _no-sir-ee_.

No matter what she did, _it _would only continuously come back and haunt her, _pester _her, and never once obey her formerly adamant commands of "leaving-and-never-returning."

But, for everybody—_just _for her nakama, her dear nakama—she would keep the pain to herself.

Because that's what you do for your friends. You attempt to mask up the pain with a delicate façade that you know you can't keep up with eventually, but you try, because it keeps them and all else going if they know—or, rather, _think _they know—that you're fine, rest assured. That's just about all you can do. For silence is one's biggest scream, but nobody ever seems to hear it.

What a cruelly ironic contradiction.

* * *

Tonight was no different from any other night after the incident, and Lucy Heartfilia was fine with that. Just fine. Completely fine. No complaints. _Nada_. Besides, she'd long since given up trying to be anything else other than that: _fine_.

It just so happened that tonight, the guild was up and about, with its rowdy members being stuck in their drinking and partying soiree. Perfect; Lucy would have time to herself to think and clear her head. The days since _it _had happened had long since been over—or, seemingly so, for in actuality, _it _had only happened recently—and it didn't help that the hours seemed to now drag on even further than ever before. Sure, Lucy could oft be seen milling amongst the party members and dancing the night away, a little less than sober, but it wasn't like anybody could delve deep into the darkest depths of her brain and dig out what was truly lurking there. It was always there in the shadows.

_Haunting._

_The incident._

Something that she would never truly forgive herself for.

The air was crisp, and the morning freshness of the atmosphere still lingered faintly. The pearly orb of a moon hung high in the heavens, illuminating the royal blue-and-indigo night sky, and the stars twinkled like the eyes of a _happy_, ebullient child. A light breeze picked up, seeming to caress the blonde with its gentle palms, and the sky seemed to welcome her into its rosy embrace. Lucy's hair danced in the wind as goosebumps picked their way up her arms and legs, and she desperately rubbed them down. Her gaze was focused on the glimmering town lights of Magnolia as she steadily made her way up the pathway and away from the guild, _away _from civilization, where she found that she could finally find some air.

She'd been coming to this very spot for the past week now. It was the tallest hilltop overlooking the entire town of Magnolia—as cheesy as it may have seemed, it was, in truth, the perfect spot for a period of peace and quiet. The natural phenomena that occurred here—the fireflies, the occasional shooting stars, the clear view of what really lay _out there _beyond the moon and stars, the twinkling lights of Magnolia—provided the ideal escape from her dreary reality.

"Lucy?" A voice emerged from the darkness that enveloped her, and Lucy felt herself stiffen. A cold shiver settled over her, and the person continued. "What are you doing out here?"

Her palm lay flat on the rough bark of the tree she was standing in the cool shade of, away in the shadows, and she turned her head ever so slightly towards the direction of the disruption of her privacy—this was not a moment she was prepared to ever let anyone see, _ever_, let alone this person. "I could say the same for you," she pointed out with a acerbically sarcastic sigh that matched the hidden expression pasted onto her face. Lucy stilled herself; the ideals were the same: _never_ let _any _of your nakama see you like this. "I mean, I'm just taking a break," she hastily amended, failing to notice the concerned light reflected in Gray's royal blue irises.

He cleared his throat, and mustered up an all-too-familiar chuckle, "Well, then, I suppose we're here for the same reason, eh?"

_That _caught Lucy's attention. Gray, seeing her posture as a welcome cue for continuation, added, "What's the matter, Luce?"

The blonde's heart throbbed. Sure, she had been all too used to having Natsu call her that—that being among her daily pick of nicknames he'd assorted especially for her—but having Gray call her that seemed to give it a whole new meaning. How strange.

She raised an eyebrow, finally pivoting around fully to face him. "What do you mean?" she asked, although she had a feeling that she knew all too well where this conversation was going. Realization dawned upon her, and she hurriedly attempted to avert the subject. "Gray, I'm fine. I honestly don't understand what you're talking about." _Lies, lies, lies_. Her lips curved into a smile. "Is it wrong for a sensible soul to want to take a break every now and then?"

"I think you know what I mean, Luce." _There he goes again._ "Heh, but, well, I suppose you're right. Crazy bunch, aren't they?" Lucy almost dismissed his former solemnness for a moment there.

"I could say the same thing for you. You're pretty crazy yourself, with the stripping," she remarked blandly, crossing her arms. Gray took a single step forward.

"Eh? You can't be serious about that!" he protested uselessly, throwing up his arms into the air for dramatically exaggerated emphasis; his face was still all smiles. "I mean-"

"You mean what?" Lucy felt another laugh bubble up in her throat, except that it didn't feel as forced as before—another strange occurrence. It was rather eccentric how easily she could laugh with this guy. "Don't make excuses and say it's a medical condition or something. I bet you just want to do it." Lucy winked coyly.

"That's where you're wrong. Everybody's already seen my _glorious, chiseled stature_," Gray teased, the words rolling off his tongue playfully. His hands were stuffed into his baggy trouser pockets, and a smirk adorned his face.

Lucy grimaced, remarking, "It's actually pretty creepy how similar you sound to Juvia, you know. Speaking of which, I bet you guys've been spending more time together." She motioned in Gray's direction suggestively, hoping to drop a hint, but he only crossed his arms expectantly and shifted his weight onto his other leg in a rather smooth, suave manner. "Any feelings, hm?"

Gray's face turned sour. "Don't even remind me about it."

"What's up? You've gotta admit that you're a perfect match."

"Hey, don't change the subject, okay? I mean, sure, Juvia's a nice girl—she's flawless, really. Gorgeous, smart, courageous... need I go on? But I don't feel _right _with her. I feel like it's infatuation. I don't deserve her kind of love. It's far too flattering, and I know I'm gonna treat her like shit, to be honest." Gray shrugged it off, passing his opinion as a factual statement, which Lucy found interesting.

"I'm pretty surprised you were so brutally honest about it all," she interjected, but Gray waved it off.

"Nuh uh. Back to the point now. Why don't you come and sit with me?" As a demonstration, he settled himself down on the hillock, overlooking the town, and crossed his legs, before invitingly nodding at the spot next to him. Hesitantly, Lucy crept over, when she realized that her legs felt like lead—it seemed like she hadn't sat down for an eternity. Even though she'd silently pledged and sworn an oath to herself that she'd never let this kind of distance matter draw her in with _him_, she felt her feet moving on their own.

"Um, sure," she said awkwardly, feeling very out of place. Gray's familiar chuckle rang in her ears, when she piped up, "Oh, hey."

The laughter ceased, but the air around them was still and light. "Hm?"

"You said you were coming here to think too. Why don't you spill what's on your mind?" Lucy probed, hoping that the impression she was leaving on the brunet wouldn't come off as too nosy. Hurriedly, she amended, "You don't have to. I was just wondering."

"Nah, it's nothing really, but..." Lucy immediately tuned in, crossing her legs. The mood that hung between them took a more solemn and melancholy turn... not that she minded, that is. Gray sighed, the breath he exhaled appearing in puffs of cold vapor; the blonde noted that his voice always seemed to have a baritone hum to it. Finally, he relented, and let out another deep sound of- what was that? Disappointment? Sadness? Dread? She had yet to know.

"Okay, Luce," Gray began, his hands lying limp in his lap, eyes distant and unknowing, glinting with a harsh bitterness, "remember Deliora?" He glanced at her through his peripheral vision, taking her tiniest hint of a nod as a cue to go on. "Well, during Tartarus... Heh. There were the Kyuukimon, those demons from the Book of Zeref, and of the Nine Demon Gates. Apparently, when Keith—that necromancer guy, remember?—intercepted you and Wendy, we got separated. Then you saved us, Lucy, and Silver—" he swallowed inaudibly, "—uh, Silver, he... he and I went to fight somewhere else. And..." He lowered his head, his teeth clenching together painfully at the memory of what had followed, and exhaled a few raggedy breaths in his struggle to control his emotions. "And... And..." Gray's fist clenched tightly into a fist, and just looking at it—and seeing that darned _mark__—_reminded him, _reminded_ him so much of _it_. "I found out that... Silver was my father," he finally admitted, and felt his chest's burden immediately pressure him less so, as he had, in the end, found a trustworthy confidant: his teammate, his best friend, his...

Said best friend exploded—as in, a rather emotional piñata-full of horrified expressions crossed onto her face at the same time, all haunting her eyes, her soul. "Gray..." she whispered breathily, in hushed shock, staring into his dulled irises. "Gray." She regained her composure, and laid a reassuring palm on his arm. "Gray, I'm so sorry. To think that you kept this into yourself this whole time without even sharing... That must've been so hard on you..." Lucy felt tears prick at the corner of her eyes, and reluctantly refrained from wiping them away. Her free hand met his bare shoulder. "I'm so, so sorry that I didn't know. I'm so, so sorry for not helping, even when I could've... How?"

As shocked as Gray was to see the blonde at his side sobbing her own eyes out—at _his_ situation, nonetheless—he kept his calm and focused his skyrocketing rollercoaster of emotions at bay with another barely kempt sigh, and managed out a small reply, "Keith was a Necromancer... He found.. He found his body and brought him back to... to life." He watched the rage and disgust display itself on Lucy's disapproving face. He felt his barrier slowly dissolving. "A-And... I hit him. I fought him. I hurt my father. With my own bare hands..." Said body parts were shaking, and, despite the fact that he clenched them together again, they refused to cease the trembling. He gave up. "And he fought me, just to let me get over my fear of... of Deliora. Why couldn't I have realized that sooner? His time... Dad... He asked me to kill him, and I couldn't. He'd done bad things after being resurrected, but I _couldn't_. Why, Dad..." He trailed off, his voice feeble and torn.

"And that's just the catalyst," he resumed his sob story and the thoughts that plagued him day and night, refusing to leave him alone for once, forever daunting and drifting around his head, pushing the blame onto him... "Ur... she died to save _me_. Ultear—you know what happened to her? She used a spell that... that took her life. It saved me. Turned back my time. I would've died if she hadn't. But she did, and now... She sacrificed herself. For me. Lyon, crying... crying because of me. Dad fighting, crying... me. Me. Me. Me. Don't you see, Lucy?" Gray grabbed at his hair in frustration at himself, desperation as to why it was always him, on the verge of breaking down. "Always... for me. Why do I hurt everybody around me? I... I made Juvia cry. For me. Why? And now, look..." His hand shakily made its way up to Lucy's tearstained cheeks, and his thumb automatically made to wipe away the wet trails of her empathy. "You're crying for me now... D-Don't cry." He forced a smile onto his face, but, like glass, Lucy knew from the start that it was just a façade—a thin veneer—and now it was crumbling down. She brought her own hand on top of his own, and guided her other to the side of his face, where she could clearly see the blurred remnants of his sleepless nights and ghosts of thoughts in everything—the drooping bags under his eyes, the pallid pallor of his forehead and guise, the icy blue veins that stood out on both his temples due to exhaustion; things anyone else except for her would have easily overlooked.

"Gray..." she began, albeit unsteadily, for she knew she had to tread carefully—treading on thin ice, like others would say.

"Why are others always sacrificing themselves for me? Why..." A thin trail of tears leisurely dragged down his cheekbone. "Everybody's leaving me. Why am I- why am I so stupid? How am I so stupid?" His jaw was set.

Lucy cleared her throat. "No, Gray, don't say that. Don't do this to me... You are one of the most extraordinary people I've ever met in my entire life, no joke. For one, you're strong, you're sturdy, and you're smart. You have an incredible sense of justice and a steady pace I know no other would have. As for occupation, you're by far among one of the most amazing mages I've ever met; you're a proud disciple of Ur. You can't keep blaming yourself for the inevitable. You have to accept that nothing that happened was your fault, and it would've happened anyway. Why not be thankful that it was you they had gladly risked their lives for, and not anyone else? Remember that this is life.

"Mira once said that everybody in our guild shares one common thing: they have all experienced pain in their pasts. And you..." Lucy perceived the defiant gaze in his captivating eyes, the curve of his cheekbones, the defined jawline, and each spike of bedhead hair that made up every part of Gray. "Your past is one of the hardest I have yet to hear. Stay with us, Gray. You're one of us; your blemishes are also part of us, and, most certainly, part of you. Whatever happened is over; it cannot be undone. But, don't you remember? They always, always live on in our hearts, no matter what." Lucy placed her palm over Gray's heart, and the rise and fall of his chest comforted her. "You know what they say. You feel that, right? They're always in here, Gray. And in here is also your purpose in life: remember them, but live on. Accept your past, okay? It was never your blame to keep; it never will be."

She felt her body move on its own; before she knew it, she was kneeling on her knees, leaning forward, and enveloping Gray in a welcoming embrace. He made no move to follow, as his muscles were tense, expression distant, but Lucy paid no mind.

"Remember that, Gray." The blonde unhooked her arms from around his neck and made to move away, only to pause momentarily in her tracks, frozen, as she felt a pair of muscular arms encircle the small of her back and around her shoulders. She crashed back into Gray—oh!—wrapped in a tight, bone-crushing hug—it was as if the ice mage refused to let her go. The two molded together (as awkward as it seemed), their bodies seeming to fit each other perfectly.

Gray's head lowered to the crook of her neck as he murmured, "Stay with me, Lucy."

Lucy's lids lowered as the bejeweled drops welled in her chocolate eyes once more, threatening to trail down her cheeks as she sharply inhaled. _Oh no, not this again. This can't happen again_\- "Don't you worry."

"I worry a lot," Gray responded, and, after what seemed like an eternity, eventually released her. "But what about you? You know—" He hastily rubbed his eyes with the back of his palm, "from what I've deduced, you've got something on your mind too, Luce."

The celestial mage blinked furiously at this in a vain attempt to force back the incoming tears. "Um, well—"

"Wait, Luce," Gray interrupted suddenly, sitting back on his haunches, "look, you don't have to, but just know that you can trust me." Lucy raised an eyebrow.

"Of course I can. Seeing that we've already gone so far into this conversation, I guess I'll just have to tell you what's bothering me too, huh?"

"If you want to play fair."

"... Alright." Lucy reclined a little into the grass, tilting her head and gazing at the sky. A shooting star blinked by with a brilliant flash before disappearing among the masses of other superplanets. She let out a soft sigh—a breath she had no idea she'd been holding. "Oh, the stars are so bright tonight..." she gasped in awe. "Well, it was also during Tartarus, like you. After you all got swallowed by Alegria, the Plutogram, I was the only one who managed to escape, for some reason, and Mard Geer started announcing to all the soldiers and Tartarus guild members that whoever killed me would become one of the missing Kyuukimon, so I summoned Virgo and Loke to fight them and Torafusa, the water lizard demon that Gajeel defeated... Then... Jackal appeared, so I summoned Aquarius—"

"Lucy," Gray cut in abruptly, "isn't that technique forbidden? You could've gotten yourself killed."

"... That's right, but I did anyway. But my spirits weren't strong enough against three Tartarus members—Lamy included, so Aquarius told me to summon the Spirit King... I... Well, I... didn't have the key, so Aquarius... She... She just... told me to break one of the golden zodiac keys as a... a substitute. But I couldn't. She told me to break... _her_ key. I shouldn't have. I swore I would always—" Lucy broke off now, crying, but sniffed and resolved to continue until the end of her explanation. She steeled herself. "I swore I would never, _ever_ sacrifice a friend for another, but I did... Aquarius... Aquarius... She was my first friend... I loved her... a lot. I betrayed her. And now, I'll never see her again. As a celestial wizard, I—I broke my oath. I broke it. I betrayed her... All she ever did was... was care for me. Now I'll never be able to repay her. What have I done? What have I done? Why..." Valiantly attempting not to, but still doing so, Lucy sobbed into her hands. "I wish... I always wish now that I could've done more with her. So much more..." she finished wistfully. The stars from above reflected comfortingly in her watery eyes. "I suppose our situations are similar."

Gray wrapped his arm around the celestial mage's shoulders, and pulled her close to him; she made no effort to push him away. "Huh," he commented thoughtfully. "I guess that we're similar in more ways than one, huh? But Luce, you saved us. Nobody could ask for more than that. Thank you. I'm so sorry that this had to happen to you..."

Lucy put her hand on her chest, relaxing slightly. "I'm so glad I got this off my chest. It's been bothering me for ages..."

"Likewise, Luce, likewise." Without their conscious knowing thereof, the two had entwined their hands, and both stood up at the same time. Gray took a step closer, closing the distance between them with a genuine smile; Lucy made no protest as she melted into his form.

"Gray?" she whispered after their shared moment of sweet serenity. Said ice mage glanced down at her. Their arms were still wrapped around one another.

"Hm?"

"Thank you."

"... For what?"

It was at this time that Lucy finally lifted her gaze to his handsome face. "For this," she replied. "I thought no one would notice. Turns out I have better things to do than wallow in self-pity..." Gray shook his head.

"No, Lucy, thank _you_. You made me realize that it wasn't my fault for everything that's happened, right? I mean, this is us. This is Fairy Tail. Crappy things happen now and then."

"You're right," the blonde admitted, unraveling her arms from around Gray's muscular abdomen. She sighed lowly. "Well, this didn't turn out quite as I expected." One pointed look from Gray, though, told her otherwise; she asserted with a pensive smile as memories trailed through her mind and soul like a rushing river, "But I'm glad that this happened, really. I'll still miss Aquarius though—"

Suddenly, Lucy felt the ice mage's lips on her own, effectively silencing her, and—despite the frigid air from the high elevation that floated around them—she felt her face heating up a thousand degrees hotter than Natsu's fire. She stood, rigid for a second, before her senses came flooding back into her and she felt herself returning the passion the brunet had so gladly given her.

They pulled apart after what seemed like a millennium of goodness. Lucy's face was still red, and she observed that the person standing in front of her's cheeks were also dusted a shade of pink.

"What was that for?" she inquired, breathless.

"To shut you up. I couldn't, uh..." Gray scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, "I couldn't bear to see you standing there—and I quote—'_wallowing in your own self-pity.'_ It's not like you, Lucy. I mean, I miss Ur and Ultear and my family too, but I'm sure we'll both get over it soon, right? And, anyway." He quickly averted the subject of their conversation. "It's getting late, and I'm sure you don't want to head back to the guild after this... So, sleep over at my place tonight?"

Lucy wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, but the rest of her face was in all smiles. "Of course."

* * *

The sun broke through the calm of the night, showering the town of Magnolia in a beautiful display of its shattering rays. Being the first of the Fairy Tail guild members to consciously awaken from the previous night's after-party-slumber-mode, the guild's residential centerfold model, Mirajane Strauss, yawned and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes.

"Oh my," were the first words that escaped her mouth as she surveyed the damage done—once again—by Fairy Tail's excessive partying, but she waved her concern off with another giggle. She brushed a few specks of imaginary dust off her dress and pulled open the guild doors. "This sunrise never fails to amaze me—oh!" She whirled around once more, her dress frills fluttering, as her mind ticked. "Huh. I could swear I thought that someone was missing here..."

Her musings were interrupted by the groans of the late master Makarov as he groped around for a table edge to assist him in his standing up. The white-haired beauty rushed over.

"Good morning, Master Makarov!"

"Why, g'morning, Mirajane!" the old man grinned in greeting, when he was met with a bout of goosebumps and shivers. Mirajane looked on quizzically.

"What's the matter?" she questioned.

"Oh, it's just the darned weather."

"Oh!" Mirajane snapped her fingers as her thoughts recollected. "That's right! I wanted to chat with Lucy yesterday about something. Have you seen her lately, Master?"

"Come to think of it, I haven't," came the reply. Thoughtfully, he stroked his chin, and gathered his floppy jester hat and staff. "Ah, that's right," he recalled, "I think I saw her leave the guild after a while last night. There was something off about her, I have to admit. Actually, Gray might've gone after her. I have no idea." Mirajane's eyes lit up like the night sky, and she beamed, thoughts clouding her head as she dove into her matchmaking reprieve. Master Makarov eyed her warningly.

"Gray?" The blue-eyed beauty's daydreamed, thoughts filled with tiny blonde and black-haired babies. _Adorable! _"Yes, that'd work out really well... Woooow!" She clasped her hands together in delight.

"By the way, Mira..." She turned to look at the guild master.

"Yes, Master?" she answered with a smile.

"Did you realize how cold it was yesterday?"

* * *

Tourists and foreigners continued to visit the eccentric town of Magnolia on a daily basis, be it via the train, the rented SE-Plug, or by any other means.

However, when asked, the old town regulars would report that that night was, most certainly, one of the coldest nights their cozy, homely little town had ever experienced.

_Cold._

* * *

_I honestly don't know what I did here. Anyways, I'm sorry if it dragged on, and I hope you liked this oneshot. :')_


	2. Night

**Author's Note: Dedicated to the lovely [soul . fairy ]****.**** I couldn't access FF-net lately, but now that I can, I'll be posting my belated Graylu week oneshots as soon as possible!**

**Disclaimer: you know the drill.**

**Prompt: Night**

* * *

_"Beware the rain._

_Beware the snow._

_Beware the man_

_You think you know."_

_—Incarceron_

* * *

It was already well into the night, and the tension stretched out across the surface of certain areas in the homely town of Magnolia was enough to cut a block of ice.

A lone, cloaked figure trekked up the road and stopped in front of the door of a bar, and paused. The wind caught onto the ragged edges of their cloak and blew it sideways, revealing a few strands of soft, golden hair hanging at the sides of the stranger's face. With a sigh, the newcomer lightly stepped towards the side of the quaint building, pleased with their discovery of a seemingly-hidden back door.

As the person raised their loosely clenched fist to knock on the back door, it opened to reveal a pair of concerned cerulean eyes.

* * *

"You know, Lucy..." A drink slid across the smooth surface of the bar counter.

Said person raised her eyebrows expectantly, waiting for an answer. She grimaced, and rose the glass set in front of her daintily to her lips. "Yes, Mira?"

Mira—or, otherwise known as Mirajane—blinked her large, thick-lashed eyes, before a smile made its way onto her face. "Just a thought, but maybe you should remove your hood. You might draw suspicion." She glanced around, before her focus made its way back to the blonde sitting sordidly in front of her. "Okay, you're already drawing some suspicion."

"Well, glad I do," the blonde replied acerbically, but the white-haired beauty on the other side of the counter ignored the acidic tone in her voice and dismissed it with another gentle smile. "At least your own... disguise is slightly believable."

"It's nice to see where your concerns lie, Lucy." Mirajane's smile was infectious, but, nevertheless, Lucy wasn't the type to be affected by this stuff. It was great that someone cared so much for her, that was right.

The blonde was brought out of her quiet musings by the sound of the door slamming over the noises of the rowdy bar frequents and their chugging mugs of alcohol, and she raised an eyebrow before discreetly peeking through the side of her hood to glance at the newcomer. Yep—always have to be on the lookout, no matter who it is.

The newcomer had thick, pitch black hair, styled in a somewhat fashionably rough-winded and casual sense, as if he'd just gotten out of bed but knew that he still looked flawless. The features carved upon his face were sharp, defined, and glorious in an all-new sense, as if—cheesy as it sounded—his face had been chiseled to perfection by the angels above. His eyes were a stormy blue-grey, much like the wind-swept sea, and, despite the fact that his attire was baggy and loose-fitting, Lucy could knew immediately about the muscles that corded his biceps and abdomen, the rock-hard, washboard-like packs that decorated his upper half, and—well, knowing your enemies came with its pros and cons.

And indeed, she knew who he was just by looking at him and those wily predator eyes of his.

And, by experience, the more beautiful something is, the deadlier it will be. Like a rose with its thorns, is it not so?

Sometimes having a notorious yet widespread reputation can get you on the wrong end of the situation.

* * *

It just so happened that the second newcomer steadily made his way over to where Lucy was seated—she steeled herself, stealthily poised and ready for whatever this guy had to sic her way—but wisely chose to set himself down a few seats away, as if the lady's presence had little to no effect on him. _If_ it affected him, for she was sure that he'd come to terms with that sooner or later.

"A martini, please." The smooth, velvety baritone of his voice, like melted chocolate, set her on edge, causing her to shift ever-so-slightly in her seat. Alarm klaxons blared on in her head.

_Danger. Danger. Danger._

As Mirajane's attention turned to the stranger, Lucy glared, fuming. That guy should be grateful, she grimaced, that looks can't kill. _Although, in my case, that's not always the point._

"Of course!"

Lucy sighed audibly. Her knuckles—which were artfully concealed beneath the folds of her purposely-oversize cloak sleeves—clenched a grim white on the counter edge. The blonde could swear that she heard a slight cracking sound underneath her fingertips as she vainly attempted to pry away her own fingers from the smooth marble surface.

It was Mirajane who tore her out of her reverie as she delicately slid over the tall, sleek form of another glass, filled skillfully with layers of bright colors, and topped with a perky cherry on its rim. Classy. The blue-eyed barmaid leaned over the counter top, face to face with Lucy as she shifted her weight onto her elbows, and informed her suggestively, "From the gentleman a few seats away."

The surprise registered upon the aforementioned blonde's face was unidentifiable; only a master of body language would be able to scrutinize upon the defiant flare in her eyes. She glanced through her peripheral vision at the newcomer, questioningly, and, as if knowing that her gaze was upon him, the brunet's head swiveled around, and he smirked at her.

_Smirked._

Fury burned through Lucy's core, like a wildfire set ablaze in the driest of forests, but she maintained her composure and instead turned back to Mira, as if barely acknowledging the brunet. His face fell—yes! —for a brief moment, before another smile and simple shrug graced his features and he turned back around.

"Mira," the blonde muttered. The waitress reached for her dishrag, wiping the interior of an empty glass. Despite the fact that she wasn't looking her way, the blonde took that as a cue to resume. Her voice emerged as a low whisper, but she was sure that Mira could identify every word that escaped her mouth. Lucy eyed her stranger-sent gift beadily, and plucked the cherry off. "Are there any rooms booked upstairs?"

Mira's wink would be indistinguishable to any other. "Indeed," came the short reply, and Lucy promptly nodded.

"And, by any chance..." She twiddled the stem between her index and thumb thoughtfully. "The room number?"

"Three."

"That's all I needed to know." The blonde discreetly observed her surroundings, before faking a greatly exaggerated yawn. Her smile was ineffably realistic, but Mira knew better. "Well," she drawled loudly, among the roar of the other pub locals, "it's late. I'll be going to get some rest. Thank you for the _lovely_ drink." _Wink_.

"Have a great night! Enjoy your stay." Although the true intent was friendly, the phoniness was seemingly truthful. As if she would stay. Mira hid her smile, and rushed over to serve a bunch of newcomers.

The amber martini remained untouched on the counter, and the cherry submerged in the colorful liquid.

_Alone_.

* * *

Hidden in the shadows on a beam that stretched across the ceiling, Lucy crouched, poised, deadly dagger in hand. Occasionally, her weapon of choice emitted a menacing gleam—be that the only factor that could reveal her location. Catlike irises scanned the darkened halls of the second floor, lying in alertly in wait for its prey.

As if on cue, a morbidly obese, egg-shaped man with immensely horrifying features—who, for the record, was blatantly drunk—tottered dangerously to the base of the stairs, with two scantily clad, unkempt women doting on him, clinging to either side. Their adoration was sickly to the level that Lucy resisted the urge to throw up all her insides right there and then. He stopped momentarily—Lucy paused, discreetly hiding the dagger behind her forearm—but only chuckled. "Weeeell, ladies..." he drawled with a yawn evident in his voice, "I'll be... going to rest. Seee you tomooorrow!" Waving the two pouting females off without so much more as a second glance, he blew a series of grotesque air kisses, which the duo lovingly accepted, and teetered up the flight of wood. There came a heaving creek with every struggling step he took. Lucy's eyes observed as he wobbled through a large wooden door near the landing, slamming it shut behind him.

Yep, that was it. _Room Three._

Leaping into action, the blonde swung herself down with the prowess and silence of a credible African savanna predator, grabbing the outstanding golden plaque pasted above the door frame and hanging there, upside down, by her legs. She cautiously peeked through the peephole, only to be astonished by the fact that not only were the lights off, but the bed lay bare, and the window flung wide open. The curtains danced in the light breeze. A wariness filled Lucy, and she tore herself away from the beam, unlocking the bolted lock with a single swipe of her dagger; it creaked open delicately. She stepped in onto the carpeted floor, half expecting to be jumped on by the target, but was greeted with a deadly silence and no signs of life anywhere. She cursed under her breath—her boss had already informed her ahead of time that this one would be tricky...

Lucy leaped out the window, and, using the window sill and the curtains, she swung herself up onto the low-lying, slanted tile roof of the cozy bar. Night had long since settled, and the darkness and shadows cast around her comforted her. The assassin paused in her step momentarily, getting up from her crouch, to absorb the breathtaking sight of Magnolia, sleeping beneath the regal blue sky, alit only by its night lights and the bright moon, and a sense of serenity comforted her, filling her with a peace unknown. _Beautiful_.

"Well, well, well." The masculine voice pierced through the air, startling the blonde, who swore under her breath, eyes widening. _Shit. _She knew she shouldn't have stopped for such a trivial thing while undergoing a mission, but her eyes were hard and cold as ice as she pivoted around. "What do we have here?" Standing a few feet away from her was _him_, the stranger in the bar. Lucy's eyes narrowed into slits.

"_You_," she spat distastefully, but regained her composure, punctually speaking, "as of you."

The brunet grinned then, crossing his arms. "Well, I do say it's a pleasure to meet you."

"And you are...?" She faked innocence, but, by the deceiving look in his eyes, she knew that he knew. "I suppose my reputation precedes me. Tell me, who am I, hmm?"

"You..." The intruder's eyes were dark. "Don't act innocent. Everybody near and far knows of you."

"Inclusive, or exclusive of you?" Lucy challenged, swiveling around so she was completely facing his way, prepared for a full-on attack. _Dangerous._

"Inclusive, of course." He smirked. "You're the Heartbreaker."

"Maybe so. Then again, it may not be," Lucy responded. "And you?"

"I think you know very well who exactly I am."

She relented. "... You're right. They call you the Ice Devil Slayer, am I right?" Said assassin made no reply, so, after a moment of shared quiet, the blonde continued with an icy glare, "We're fellow assassins then, aren't we?"

"I am on no level with anyone, let alone you." The Slayer eyed her with an equally acetic expression. The tension between the two was strained.

"Good dogs know when to get out of the way..." Lucy traced her finger down her dagger. "Bad dogs," her eyes narrowed, "are to be shot down."

As if on cue, both her and the man across the rooftop from her pulled out their guns in syncopated unison, flinging them up in the air and catching them single-handedly, twirling the weapons around their fingers—this man was good, Lucy hated to admit—and charged at each other. This was the way of the Fiorean assassins; something in much similarity to an assassin's creed: an assassin will always be an assassin. Lest you are on a team, then you must never trust another of your kin. When two enemy assassins meet? You must fight, until one admits defeat; ultimately, defeat will cost you not only your dignity and honor, but also, in many cases, your life.

Lucy packed him with a quick roundhouse kick, which he skillfully blocked with his forearm, and, grabbing her ankle, he threw her aside. Agilely, she flipped, and landed a powerful hit with a backwards kick. She somersaulted a few feet back, surveying her enemy as he ran a hand over his abdomen and smirked. The two clashed once again, each sending flurries of punches and hits, but the opposition would continuously block and evade. The blonde swept her foot under his ankle; he fell, but caught himself with one hand and flipped her over with a crash. Tiles cracked and fell. As they exchanged blows, any unsuspecting passersby would think that they were not fighting, but instead dancing, their moves in cue with one another. When one hit, the other hit back; when one blocked, the other would also block. At some point, they had landed on top of each other, but—never mind the matter. The constant banging of bullets rang through the night air.

Eventually, the two rolled back to their original positions, and Lucy skidded back with a curse. "My boots," she remarked quietly, gazing at the trail of missing roof tiles. She fingered a narrowly-missed-gunshot cut she had obtained on her cheekbone, when suddenly, an abrupt scream sounded from the alley nearby, and she stiffened. _Crap, I'm late_.

"I'll admit, you're good." The stranger winced as he felt the back of his head. "Gray."

"You'll learn to stay out of my way... Gray." Lucy closed her eyes, pushed past him without another word, and leapt off the rooftop, with him blinking aimlessly in her wake.

"Man," was all he managed. "So... Lucy is her name?"

* * *

The atmosphere was eerily quiet. The assassin ceased her footsteps in the entrance of the alleyway, glancing with a squint into the darkness, but the shadows enveloped her; she saw nothing. With a sigh, she stepped onto the narrow path, and began stalking forward, calculating her every step. Wasn't there a scream here earlier? The culprit was probably still here. Lucy halted in her step as a soft crackling sound emerged from someways behind her; as she turned her head, nothing noticeable was there to see. The sky above her blinked innocently, but, as if on cue, dark, flippant rain clouds blotted out the glow of the moon, and everything was silent once more. She resumed her pacing, when a rustle sounded a few meters ahead of her. The blonde sighed, hands in her pockets. Absentmindedly, she gently ran her finger over her cut. "Come out," she called softly, but was only greeted by the angst-ridden howling of the wind—the breeze had picked up all of a sudden.

Out of the blue, there came the icy sensation that pricked her throat wickedly, and a hand was laid to rest on her shoulder; however, Lucy didn't move. Amidst the dull gleam of the lamplight filtering into the stripped opening of the alley, a small figure with a bulbous head, armed with a revolver in one hand, smartly dressed in a tuxedo, and guarded by two oversized men with bulging biceps trotted in, as if he was bagging a stage spotlight of some sort. Lucy's hands tightened on the rim of her pockets, yet she remained deadly silent.

"I must say," this new authority figure remarked arrogantly, not a single trace of drunkenness hinted in his tone, "I'm quite impressed. To think you managed to fend off my most trustworthy adversary; I commend you, Miss Heartfilia. It is all but a pleasure to _grace your presence_, my dear." The voice was mocking, scornful, causing her scowl to deepen. A moment of silence passed between the two, not unlike that of a tossed, yet discarded, baton. Outside, the street light flickered faintly, before it too fizzled out lifelessly. Lucy could only mildly catch the muttered command of, "Toss me another." A lighter flared to life, its flame latching itself onto the stubbly end of the obese man's smoke, and died out as quickly as it had appeared.

"Well." Smoke clouded the blocked lane, clambering up the walls, and she found it difficult to resist covering up her nose. It wasn't as if she didn't care for her own wellbeing, for that matter. "Down to business. Due to inner sources..." The revolver shone dangerously in the shadows cast by the cigarette. Lucy eyed it warily. "It has come to my attention that that dirty scoundrel Makarov—" Her boss' name seemed like acid on his tongue, and he spat it out indignantly, "—has filed an assassin request under your name. And, coincidentally, it seems here—" He stabbed at the picture pasted like a curse on a poster he held up with his chubby index finger, and bit into his cigarette in frustration. "—that your so-called target is _me__."_

Lucy obstinately raised a brow, and nothing passed through her lips once more. "You may think your silence is eloquent," the duke continued, "but I have my own ways of getting what I want. For instance, what if I were to kindly inform you that your scroungy little bar is currently brimming with visitors, and that among them I have placed a few very special employees who will have it their way with your dear friend, the barmaid, on command?" At this, the blonde bristled ever so slightly, her hackles skyrocketing. Instead, her wavering thoughts came out blithely calm.

"... Mirajane can take care of herself, for your information," she said simply, and the man tutted sympathetically, clicking his tongue and twirling his stringy mustache.

"Oh, dear, dear..." Lucy winced at the casual honorific. "You are so naive, so innocent. Indeed, she may be, but if my top employee can even stand against you, then how is she a match for an entire band of my elite? You take me for nothing, do you not? Many, including I, know of miss Strauss' past. She would hardly stand a chance, with all that. What can she do? She'd wreck the place. You'd lose your business.

"Do you think..." He stalked forward, creeping at a hazardously slow pace. "... that I am a fool? Is that what you take me for? Honestly. You think that I myself lack human resources? I have my sources. I have my spies. I know what goes on. Miss Heartfilia; you are a notable assassin. Usually, in this situation, an average worker would find their heads rolling on these very cobblestones not within a second." His shoes tapped the cement floor beneath their soles for emphasis. "But, per se, this will not be the case. In fact, vice versa, I have one rather simple request of you."

"I have no interest," Lucy responded, and immediately the blade pressed further into her neck. Her jaw tightened a margin.

"No worries. I only require your services, seeing that you are definitely a force to be reckoned; I'd gladly admit that. Surrender to the Everlue Corps, Miss Lucy. After all, it is best. Those dirty Fairies will do no good for you. They are the scum of this society, and you, for a fact, do not belong there." Duke Everlue's grin was creepy beyond measure, but said blonde held her ground defiantly.

"Says you," she observed, "who has killed thousands of innocents to get your way, has installed countless radioactive material and useless masonry factories around our nation, and has a preceding reputation of being by far the sickest, the most dangerous, and the most unreliable drug lord?" The hand on her shoulder maintained its vice-like grip, but instead pinioned her arms behind her back. Talk about annoying.

"That is none of your business, Heartfilia," Everlue snarled, "for you meddle too much. I am merely asking a favor."

"And that favor I will merely decline," Lucy fired back.

"It's far too late for that."

"I should've ended you on the stairwell."

"If you do not agree, I will send the signal immediately. Your comrades at the bar stand no chance," Duke Everlue threatened greedily, and Lucy held back a restricted sigh.

"As I said," she repeated, feeling like a mantra, "I have no business with you—"

"Men," the opposition interrupted shortly, and his two body guards automatically moved in on both her sides. The open-ended side of the barrel trailed softly down the side of her face, as if it were a caress, and Lucy didn't bother to hide her disgust as Duke Everlue leaned in close. The two were nose-to-nose, and his putrid, dank breath puffed out in fumes along her neck. She inched away, to no avail. "Lucy Heartfilia." His voice was dangerously soft. "I worked with your parents once. Such worthwhile business partners... But your dear mother so trusting. No wonder she didn't suspect a thing about that cup of tea, even on her deathbed... Whoops, I let it slip. Anyhow, my assumption is that you are much like your parents, and while therefore hereby obey my commands, won't you? You'd be willing to sacrifice for your friends, hm?"

Lucy grit her teeth, subtlely averting her gaze. "Let me go," she demanded adamantly, harshly enunciating each word. "_Now_."

"My love, you made that impossible the moment you stepped into this alley—" As the lord spoke, a new voice cut in from the mouth of the opening, in front of them, and a gunshot rang out suddenly, cutting through the stillness of the night like a knife does to melted butter. Next to Lucy, a burly guard wheezed valiantly, blood spilling in gushes from his newly-attained fatality, and collapsed into a heap onto the ground. In shock, Everlue whirled around, still clutching the revolver with white knuckles, and Lucy's eyes widened.

"You heard the lady." Wisps of smoke arose from the recently-used barrel, attached to an outstretched arm and... a certain someone. He smirked. "Get moving, Everlue."

"G-Gray?" said man spluttered uselessly. The cigar lay, discarded, on the ground, and his polished soles stomped down violently onto it, crushing the last breaths out of it. "Y-You..." He trembled in fury. "You traitor! What on Earth Land are you doing?"

"Well, long story short, I met a person who made me realize that working for you was probably the shittiest decision I've ever made before," Gray shrugged nonchalantly. He absentmindedly flicked the trigger. "Now, hand her over unless you want fifty bullets in your heart." He motioned at Lucy.

"It'll be your own life hanging on a thread," replied Duke Everlue, and he lunged at Gray, crashing full-force into him with an agility unseen before any thoughts passed through anyone else's head. The two tumbled onto the empty road together, having accidentally shed their guns, wrestling and fighting. Securing an entrance, Lucy leapt into action, elbowing the two brawny fellows behind her sharply and kicking their faces in with a feral growl. One made a grab at her, and she dodged skillfully to the side, kneeing him in the gut, before twisting against the wall and kicking herself off the elevated surface. Airborne, she smiled satisfactorily as she stomped onto the second's shoulders with deliberate force and was greeted with a deafening series of cracks. She flipped off him as he fell, and snatched up Gray's neglected gun, racing out into the open. Gray and Duke Everlue were now on their feet, exchanging blows and kicks—Duke Everlue wasn't labeled 'dangerous' for nothing. With her heart's constant pounding reverberating in her ears, Lucy shakily raised the weapon, aimed, and firmly pressed down on the trigger.

_Bang_.

Both men suddenly came to a standstill amidst their duel, and Lucy's eyes widened in fear that she had accidentally assaulted the unintended person. However, much to her relief, it was Duke Everlue himself whose hand numbly felt its way to his chest and came back stained with his maroon blood, soaking his tuxedo. His eyes rolled to the back of his head slowly, and he frothed slightly at the mouth—ew—before falling—it seemed as if everything had advanced into slow motion as he fell.

Gray staggered back the moment he hit the ground, and Lucy, eyes still wide, deftly picked her way over to the scene, but the minute she reached him, he had resumed his usual stance. Out of the blue, he stepped forward and wrapped Lucy in a warm, tender hug. The blonde stiffened, too astonished to return the embrace, even when he pulled back and slammed his mouth against hers. A previously unknown warmth erupted in her chest, blossoming with color, and she felt herself naturally reacting and wrapping her arms around his neck, returning the passion caught in the notion.

"... Thank you, Gray," she whispered against him almost inaudibly, but a smile caught onto his face and she knew.

High above them, the moon seemed to wink and shine brighter.

* * *

Night used to be her duty; her darkness. Night was his shadow; his heightened fear.

Now, together, it was both their requiem.

* * *

**For the record, I'm not proud of this one, but I hope you somehow managed to enjoy it...**

**Please remember to R &amp; R!**


	3. Fear

**Author's Note: these oneshots are dedicated all to [soul . fairy] (please excuse the spaces).**

**Disclaimer: Hiro Mashima owns all.**

**Prompt: Fear / Attack On Titan AU**

**Other: contains (indirect) manga spoilers**

* * *

_"Fear does not shut you down._

_It wakes you up."_

_—Divergent_

* * *

Like a mere child's splatter picture, the sky was stained with a blood red—beautiful, but adhering in its foreboding of danger. The sun was slowly progressing in setting, but, behind the loveliness, everybody within the populated walls of refuge, Wall Maria, knew better than to relax their perpetually-tensed muscles and lower their heightened senses. Among these people were that of a lone squad, each member on horseback, galloping at full speed through a forest filled with gargantuan sequoia and redwood trees down a single mud-and-dirt path that had been beaten down by the hooves of pacing horses and other means of transportation over the previous years. The wind around them whistled as they sped through the brush.

Seated precariously on a snowy white stallion, a brunet, clad formally in Scouting Legion uniform, wavered; his mind was clearly set on other things. Uncertainly—while the path spreading out before and behind them like a sandy ribbon remained empty, except for he and his group—the man's head swiveled around continuously. His gaze darted to and fro, and he continuously cast his eyes backward, much to the chagrin of his squad leader—a stern-looking redhead conveniently taking the lead in their specific traveling formation.

"Gray! Focus on the road! Everybody, full speed ahead!" their captain, Erza Scarlet, chided sharply, and said person snapped his head around apologetically to set his sights on the plain, flat ground ahead of him. His eyes were solemn and downcast.

"Yes sir... I mean, ma'am." His quell came out hurried and mumbled.

Beside him, on a steed the color of a mahogany desk, a pretty bluenette glanced at him as she clutched onto her reins. Cautiously, she reached over and laid a reassuring hand onto his back. "Gray-sama?" She lowered her voice to a barely intelligible whisper. "Sweetie? Are you alright? Tell Juvia what's the matter." But Gray only laid his own palm atop the back of Juvia's delicately, like she was a porcelain doll, and managed a small smile at her. "I'm okay, Juvia," he replied softly.

Previously, Juvia had admitted to Gray that she was currently infatuated with him—yes, infatuated; those were the exact words she had used—and Gray couldn't have thought anything otherwise. Juvia was gorgeous, determined, and strong in countless ways; she was exactly his type, in manner of speaking. But she expected an impending answer to her ambiguous proposal, and he was conflicted inside about the matter.

Nervously, he retracted his hand—he couldn't bear to look at her—and shifted his gaze back to the empty dirt flowing behind them. He felt strange and void inside; something was definitely off.

Suddenly, as if eerily on cue, a flare signal sparked, leaving a trail of bright, smoldering smoke in its wake, and Gray stiffened as he noticed what squad area from which the alarm had manifested. His grip on the reins tightened considerably—his knuckles were a pallid white with shocking realization. An involuntary shiver traveled down his spine.

_A call of distress... Titans? Titans._

Without a second's further hesitation, he cried out, "Captain! The flare! The troops on the righthand side are in trouble!"

Stoically, Erza's features were of mild distaste and discomfort as she barked aloud, "Continue!"

"Wait, Captain Erza!" On Gray's other side, whose horse was pressed flank to flank with his own in the heat, his best friend—the only one who had insistently remained at his side with consistent measure, despite their numerous quarrels and heated brawls—Natsu Dragneel ran a worried hand through his rosy salmon locks distressfully. He tugged violently on his own reins, and his dappled ride whinnied with exhaustion and immediately decelerated. "We have to help them!" His pleading yell was catalystic, and Erza whipped her head around furiously. For emphasis, Natsu pointed at the narrow patch of sky—now tinted with shades of smoke from the trailing signal—hailed above their heads. "They gave us a signal for a reason! Do you hear any backup? We're supposed to aid them! They're risking their lives for us!" Sweat beaded on his forehead.

Erza wheeled her horse around with a graceful gait, skidding to a halt, and paused momentarily, but her eyes shone fiercely. She brushed her bangs out of her eyes. "Natsu Dragneel, Gray Fullbuster," she growled. Her irises glinted threateningly, and she unsheathed her sword with a clean _zing_! of ease. Before anyone could react, she had gripped Natsu's collar in one fist and aimed the pointed tip of her blade at his Adam's apple. It grazed his neck ever-so-slightly, and he fought the urge to gulp.

"Let me make this clear." The tone in the redhead's voice was piqued with a soft menace that neither of the duo could not quite place. "You do not waste my time. We are on a mission for the sake of humanity. We are in uncharted territories, overrun by beings that could snap your bones within a _millisecond_." Her blade drove deeper, and Natsu valiantly inched backward. "You chose to join the Survey Corps. Make your limited time here its worth. And, just remember..." Erza's face was dark. "Just because you are a Titan Shifter, that doesn't mean that you're strong. You're a weakling in comparison, and I'm not saying that out of intentional abrasiveness. Are you willing to lay down your life for humanity?"

With a swift swing, Erza's sword arced backwards and slashed slightly into the side of Natsu's neck; the mark promptly began bleeding, and the latter yelped and cupped his palm over the wound with an astonished cry. Gray remained rigid in stark silence, surprised beyond comfort. The redhead sheathed her sword cleanly, and wheeled back around with a pointed look at the two.

"Natsu Dragneel," she resumed her speech with ignited passion lighting her every word, but even so, every word spewed out of her mouth was bitter and cold as ice. "Know that we are doing this mission for _you_. You are the catalyst for humanity's comeback. That is our current objective at hand: protecting you. A few lives lost will be of little importance in such a drastic matter."

"You're just saying that these lives don't mean anything," Gray interjected boldly. "With all due respect, Captain Erza, but your logic is flawed beyond reason. Commander Makarov specifically gave out orders for assistance when a step in the plan is disrupted. Every step is important, just like every life lost or gained."

"Gray Fullbuster, that is not what I meant. They will be remembered as martyrs who fought for us all, and they will be remembered." Erza's penetrating gaze dared him to say more, but he was unfazed at the moment. His boldness dizzied even himself, but Erza merely frowned him off and commanded loudly, "We have lost much time. Continue ahead, full speed! No interruptions, whatsoever."

"No." Gray's objection pierced through the monochromatic air hovering about them, and Erza went deathly silent, stilling. He took that as a hazardous cue to continue. "I won't. I don't care if you all leave me behind in the dust right this minute. I'm going to help. I'll defeat all the titans myself if I have to."

He galloped off without a second thought, weaving through the bushes until he was out of sight and hidden within the folds of foliage in the dark forest, and Natsu took off wordlessly after him towards their designated target spot.

_Lucy..._

* * *

A solemn blonde with sparkling brown eyes, seated upon a speckled grey steed, bit back a frustrated sigh as a multitude of fifteen-meter class titans burst through the clearing and into view behind her squad of twelve, exclusively. As thunderous footsteps sounded behind them, gaining speed surprisingly fast, she coughed, reached for the small gun stowed snugly into the side of her belt, and slammed her finger down firmly on the trigger. The red-hot smoke of the signal spewed from the holster, hurtling itself far into the small patch of sky above them. _How could this happen? Wasn't there a group preventing titans from entering the forest?_

The seconds dragged on into endless minutes, and the captain cleared her throat, preparing to fire a second shot, when a fearsome-looking comrade with long, pin-straight aqua hair next to her suddenly glared at her back and yelled, "Lucy! What the hell are you doing?"

"Firing a second shot, Aquarius," replied said corporal; her hand remained on the handle of the flare gun. "I don't think they noticed the first." The other member shook her head indignantly, her blue hair flying behind her, and pulled on a burst of speed, advancing until she and the blonde were parallel, side by side. She laid a hand reassuringly on the barrel of the gun, and offered her a crude, encouraging smile.

"Don't," she coerced. "We can take these guys on ourselves, right? We can fight. We aren't in the strongest squad of the Survey Corps for nothing."

At this, Lucy glanced her way, contemplating her suggestion for a moment, before exhaling deeply. Setting her jaw, she averted her gaze. "Right..." she muttered.

"Don't give up now." A ghost of a smile could be seen on Aquarius' face. "We can stop them."

Lucy bit her lip in compliance, and shouted, "Everybody! 3D Maneuver Gear! Go!"

She watched as those behind her, on command, began popping out of their saddles one after the other in a tidy fashion and jettisoning high into the air, away from the harmful clutches of mankind's enemy. As the last of her crew soared away from their horses, she shoved the gun back into its original location, and, promptly, a set of iron grappling hooks shot out from the metal machinery hanging at her hips, and Lucy jetted off of the back of her ride, swinging onto the branches of a large Sequoia. High up from the ground, she glanced down at her retreating steed and closed her eyes, head now raised towards the heavens. Her gaze immediately sought out that little patch of red hovering above the leafy green canopy.

_I hope that everyone will live this time._

Her hasty musings were interrupted by Aquarius' snapping. "Lucy!" By now, the horde of titans had already gathered at the bases of the trees in a frugal attempt to climb and reach their breathing objectives.

"You guys know what to do." She nodded, face set and hardened into that of an expression worn from war, and leapt from the sturdy branch, spiraling in a speedy descent towards the enemy, ordering loudly, "Attack!"

The blonde surged towards the mutated sea of faces below, and spared a quick look behind her to see her squad members flying not too far behind her. An ambiguous sense of pride niggled at her deep down inside, and her eyes glinted. A weathered leather pouch full of jingling golden keys, strapped securely against her hip, burned into the side of her leg in foreboding, and anger and hatred bit down upon her like a deer trap. Anger that this was the current state of their society. Hatred for titans. Hatred for their existence and their ways, their tendencies.

Lucy allowed this heat encompass her as she flipped in the air, her center tilting sideways as the grappling hooks flew and embedded themselves into the meaty neck of a slightly larger titan with a seamy mouth and tufts of untidy black hair. Amidst the ripple of noise around her, she growled in a feral manner as she swung past the titan's nape, her hooks releasing, and heaved her two razor-sharp blades into the back of its neck.

Its gargantuan hand reached backwards, as if it was considering the notion of swatting a fly on the back of its neck, wavering slightly in midair. Enraged at the possible analogy, the blonde flew towards the open palm—also taking the chance to slash at its one vulnerable spot—and scissored cleanly through the center of it. Satisfied, Lucy's eyes narrowed as the being collapsed into a large pile of skin, blood, and ichor, before seeking out her next target.

"That one can be Lamy," she decided. The captain had taken it to be a favorable pastime that she name her slain enemies, in order to keep every lesson each kill had taught her fresh in mind. "One hundred and eleventh kill."

Her ever-watchful eyes settled upon a group of preoccupied titans gathering and crowding around what Lucy assumed was a soldier, and she zigzagged skillfully between each large being in her path, attaching her grappling hooks to the nape of one's neck and hurtling towards her designated target spot at breakneck speed. Slicing it, she leapt to the next one, only to spot her two pink-haired members, Aries and Virgo, in a tight spot as they valiantly fought for their lives. Seeing their lives on the line, Lucy dove in, slicing past a trio of large prunes, and butchered the outstretched hand of one attempting to sneakily ambush Aries from behind.

"Lucy!" the curly-haired lamb—her incredibly soft personality had garnered her that nickname a while ago—gasped in relief and gratitude, and the blonde winked at her.

"Careful where you look, Aries," Lucy reprimanded gently. As she zipped past, she felt a forceful tug on her steel hook lines, and she rolled her head backwards to examine who her new opponent was, before flipping into a complete somersault and giving in to gravity's demands. Three impatient titans awaited her arrival.

"Hn," the blonde grunted absentmindedly, and picked up speed with a speedy burst from her maneuver gear towards the trio. Suddenly, however, one collapsed with a thunderous thud onto the packed dirt beneath them, and the silhouette of a certain ginger with glasses and spiky hair emerged from where the titan was once standing. The other two directed their attention his way. In replacement of his glasses, however, Leo's face was adorned with a pair of ridiculous-looking goggles.

"God, you look stupid with those, Loke," Lucy remarked offhandedly, whizzing around the temple of a titan. A stray strand of its greasy hair almost slapped into her, but she dodged awkwardly. Said person blinked, superficially hurt.

"Augh, Luuuucy!" he whined childishly, before his manner turned melodramatically flirty. "You know I still look gorgeous in them, love." He aimed a coquettish wink her way, but the blonde rolled her eyes in response.

"Huh—crap!" Her eyes suddenly widened as she took in the sight of rough bark incoming, and she collided with the trunk of a tree. Immediately, her hooks grasped around the trunk's circumference as she steadied herself with a wince.

"Lucy! Are you okay?" Leo yelled worriedly, but the blonde shook her head.

"I may or may not have overestimated that distance," she berated herself under her breath with a curse, and glanced at her right ankle stoically. "... Crap."

A concerned voice neared, and Lucy could make out the yells of Aquarius as she screeched, "Lucy! Down below!"

With a jolt, Lucy pushed herself off of the tree with her good leg just in time to miss the large incisors of a big-headed titan leaping up at her. She shivered at the proximity of the resounding snap of its jaws as it slammed its mouth shut, barely missing her leg, and she attached herself to its back. The titan swung back down from midair, and its spindly long arms slapped down towards her, and, again, she dodged the blow only by a hair's length. Unfocused, she noticed Aquarius swinging in her direction.

"The hell, Lucy?" she called, flying in an upwards arc towards the nape of its neck, "Why are you so unfocused?"

The blonde blinked in that instant, and jumped off the titan, but her train of thought had already been thrown wildly off track by the jarring pain in her ankle. Seeing her condition, Aquarius frowned, changed directions sharply, and grabbed Lucy. Dangerously close to the ground, the bluenette dashed with incredible speed, winding her way between titan feet and tree trunks, when a loud cough and sputter suddenly sounded from her own maneuver tank. Aquarius gulped audibly, and fought the urge to curse.

Astonished, Lucy said, "Don't tell me that you've run out of gas..."

"About that..." Aquarius began, when the tank wheezed out its last breaths unexpectedly, and she desperately aimed a turn for the base of a tree in order to secure a safer landing. "Shit." Her face was a deathly shade of white.

"I—" There was came an abrupt stop in their course, and Aquarius let out a strangled cry as the two jostled backwards, descending towards the earth. Sending a furtive look backwards, Lucy came to the stark realization that during their flight, a titan had stomped on Aquarius' two metal grapples, yanking the Survey Corp duo down to the ground. Despondently, Aquarius hastily pulled on a final burst of strength and hurled Lucy towards the tree trunk as she crashed in the opposite direction.

Wild-eyed, Lucy yelled in vain as she landed in a corner, "Aquarius!"

Said person collided with the sunbaked earth painfully, skidding a distance. The elbow of her jacket ripped as she clambered up slowly, panting, and eyed the titan down with a defiant glare. Aquarius stepped back, poised determinedly. "Come at me, you beast," she growled, tearing out her two blades and charging. "How fucking _dare_ you!"

"Aquarius..." Lucy muttered, collecting herself, before rushing over towards the challenging pair. She lifted herself off the ground.

Everything after that happened within an instant. With fiery eyes, Aquarius sprinted towards the giant; however, her attack was disrupted as its foot found its way towards her abdomen and forcibly slammed her face-first into the nearest tree. Despite the fact that the titan's foot alone was enough to dwarf Aquarius' height, the blood splashed vigorously around the bark and splattered onto the ground told Lucy otherwise of the situation. A few cold drops landed onto her jacket and face, and she reached up to her cheek, stiffening all over as her fingers reappeared in her line of vision stained a terrible crimson red.

The blonde's entire world froze in that moment.

Aquarius tumbled downwards from her place the second the enormous foot left the tree—but not without having a sword embedded deep within its flesh; the severed limb fell gruesomely to the ground in the same way—drenched entirely in varying shades of fresh blood. In her place remained a star-shaped formation of blood. Drooping and unblinking, Lucy stumbled onto her knees. As the titan leaned in towards the body, its palms open, the blonde finally found her words.

"No... No, no, no, _no!_" She repeated hysterically, the words forming over and over in her head like a broken record. "No!"

Without a second's thought, the enraged commandant lobbed her scimitar at the incoming titan's eye, successfully blinding it, and the behemoth grunted intelligibly in surprise, dropping Aquarius' limp body in the process. Ignoring the possibility of its usage of its other eye, Lucy staggered over, falling atop the fallen soldier's body as a shield. She swung her other sword in front of her challengingly, and shakily got to her feet.

"_No_," she emphasized. Her vision burned a heated red, and she snarled at the looming face in front of her. "_You_. How _dare_ you touch her! _How dare you!_"

The hand came again, an imminent figure of fear, and her breath caught in her throat as she was greeted with the same fate as her comrade. Her head and leg throbbed in pain as a fist rammed into her, when a flash of red caught her eye once more. Once again, anger surged through her veins, and adrenaline bubbled up in the pit of her stomach.

With another feral war cry, Lucy launched herself through the hand and straight at the monster's neck, cleanly slicing off the gigantic head in her rage. Landing lightly on top of its shoulder blade, she proceeded to drill through the middle of its neck, slicing the entire body in half. Covered in sweat and ichor, she promptly hobbled back to where Aquarius silently lay.

The Heartfilia swiftly gathered the bluenette's inert body into her arms, cradling her head, and wiped away the excess blood from her face. She scrunched her face together, her teeth gritting, but found that although her eyes burned immeasurably, no tears would come. Without a sound, the blonde embraced the bloodied figure of her former comrade tightly, as if unwilling to let go.

"My first friend..." she murmured in a broken whisper.

* * *

Gray looked up at the sound of repetitive footsteps pacing into the room to see Levy, a petite bluenette placed in the same squad as he, who bore an anxious expression upon her face. Cautiously, he inquired, "What happened to the right-hand squad? How many sacrifices were made today?"

Levy directed an ineffective glare his way, her tone bitter, "Shouldn't I be the one asking you that? You and Natsu were the ones who oh-so-nicely ditched our team to go help out."

Gray's response came uttered as a sigh. "Nope," he said regretfully, "we came too late. By then, there was blood everywhere, and nobody there... How many sacrifices were made today?" he repeated.

Morosely, Levy stared at her shoes, suddenly finding great interest in the bare wooden floorboards beneath their soles. "Many," came the sordid reply. "Lucy got injured quite badly too."

At this, Gray leapt to his feet. "What? How?"

"I don't know, but I heard that a Titan smashed her into a tree. Full blow." Levy shuddered, blatantly picturing the scene. A shiver ran down her spine. "Either way, she's hurt."

"Is she okay?" Gray persisted.

"She sustained a pretty bad head wound, but I'm sure she'll be fine. She's Lucy, after all; she's a tough one," Levy attempted to lighten the mood, but failed as she managed a dry laugh. "Heh."

"Right..." It was at that moment that Juvia also entered the room, and a bright smile graced her features, undoubtedly upon noticing her 'Gray-sama.' She skipped over ebulliently. "Gray-sama! There you are!" she cheered, latching herself onto him. Levy raised an eyebrow curiously and clasped her opposite elbow with one hand, propping her cheek against the other. Her irises glimmered in contemplation.

"Hm... Juvia?" she mused with a cheeky smirk. "You guys are together, aren't you? Your lovey dovey-ness is so cute." She leaned in closer, a naughty grin on her face. "Wait until the others hear about this. I'd totally _ship_ you guys together."

"L-Levy-chan! Go to sleep!" Juvia stuttered, her eyes popping out and a blush spreading readily onto her face. As a tittering Levy sauntered out of the room, she resumed her previous speech with a murmur. "Gray-sama." She clasped his bicep. From the underlying shift in tone in her voice, Gray automatically deduced the worst. "Juvia would like to talk to you."

"Go ahead." The brunet ran a hand exasperatedly through his hair with another sigh. It seemed like that was all he was doing nowadays—sighing. Gray blithely padded over to his bunk and heaved a breath, scooting aside to make place for his blue-eyed companion. Juvia took that as a signal to commence.

"Juvia knows you might have someone else in mind," she started, and Gray bit back yet _another_ groan, sensing what was coming. His blue-haired friend took no notice, and resumed. "Juvia saw it when you saw the smoke signal, because Juvia knows of your relationship with... _her,_" she spat distastefully on the last word, punctuating it with toxic venom. "But Juvia is closer with Gray-sama. Juvia can protect Gray-sama from any harm, and Juvia will _always_ be by your side, Gray-sama. Do you understand? _She_ will not. To you she is a stranger. She is nothing to you."

"Juvia," Gray finally managed, leaning his forehead against Juvia's shoulder blade. He had no idea how exhausted he sounded. "I think I'm done for tonight. I'll answer you tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay."

* * *

The moon hung by a thread in the cloudless midnight sky, and shone delicately through the window in a neat square patch on the floor at the foot of Gray's bunk. Soundlessly, he tossed his bunched-up sheets aside—no doubt he had had a sleepless eve so far—and clambered out of bed, still fully clad in his uniform, and tiptoed out the door. The black-haired soldier picked his way warily through the bunks, taking extra care to avoid the creakier tiles, as he'd done this deed enough times to tell between good and bad. Even he needed a break from humanity once in a while.

The grass tickled his boots. Avoiding the crooked barbed edges of the wired fences that surrounded the corps, he paced steadily towards the place he had come to know best for his solitude—the hilltop. It was the ideal spot for solace and insight, with the cliff face jabbing out at an unusual angle into the night sky and the large, shimmering lake, the most beautiful scene he had ever seen in his eighteen years, sleeping down below. Gray ducked under a stray branch. However, to his surprise, the brunet was shocked to see another figure occupying his usual location, overlooking the glittering blue expanse of water floating below the hillock. As he neared, the figure slowly turned their head back a few degrees, and Gray was (again) stilled by the voice that greeted him and came as music to his ears.

"Who's there?"

"... Lucy?" Gray muttered, stepping forward into full view, but still shaded by the trees. The blonde had one knee drawn up tightly to her chest, and her elbow rested upon her kneecap. The moonlight soaked through her as Gray advanced closer, drenching her in its aura-like white glow, and he could clearly see the layer of bandages wrapped around her head and temple and the various patched up wounds on her face. Lucy raised an eyebrow.

"You should be asleep," she acknowledged. Her eyes did not meet his gaze, but kept her eyes trained on the world spread out before her.

"I should be telling you the same thing. Why are _you_ out here, then?" Gray cleverly evaded her comment.

"I needed to clear my head." Her offhand reply prompted his eyes to flit back to the bandages wrapped around her head.

"What happened today?" It was then that he noticed that in her other hand, Lucy clutched a broken gold key between her thumb and forefinger. "What's that?" Lucy sighed deeply, and gazed up at the moon.

"It's nothing."

"Tell me," Gray pressed on. He was met with a long delay before his response came.

"... Aquarius died."

The brunet stalled, and his face fell immediately. "_What?_" he asked incredulously, and Lucy frowned, raising the key up to the moonlight. Gray noticed the marks and scratches in the fragmented metal.

"She's dead," Lucy repeated blankly, before clarifying, "she died to save me."

"Huh?"

"She saved me, but a titan rammed her into a tree before she could escape or do anything else. Her bones were crushed. And it's my fault."

"Um..." Gray was at loss for words, standing shellshocked. _Don't act stupid_. He shook his head furiously and settled himself down beside the blonde, who had no reaction and continued staring at the scenery. Yet, he was sure that wasn't her goal, but he said nothing. "Uh... I'm really sorry. Natsu and I rushed to help, but we got lost halfway and arrived far too late."

"I'm just glad he's safe," came the stale reply. "He's what the mission's about anyway."

"If you put it that way—" Gray began, but refused to finish his thought. "Anyway, I know there's something on your mind—"

"—which I've told you," Lucy interrupted. She sighed. "You don't know that."

"I do. You seem crestfallen. I've known you long enough for that, Lucy," Gray stated proudly.

"Honestly? Three years doesn't make you 'know' someone. And you know what?" Lucy continued, and he was suddenly unsure of whether she was truly paying him mind anymore, "I don't know what I live for."

"What do you mean?" Gray interjected anyway, for the sake of replying. Better to say something just in case.

"You do know that this fight is futile, right?" Lucy finally turned to him, and Gray couldn't help but notice how the moonlight seemed to soften her usually firm, defined features. She looked younger and fresher, like she was an innocent country girl who knew none too much of love and war and only of freedom, and it was as if she was being focused on in a different perspective. It was—

_Breathtaking. Beautiful. Awesome. Angelic. Alluring. Bewitching._

_So many... I can't even begin to describe it._

"We are going to lose in the end." Gray thanked the heavens above that Lucy was incapable of reading his thoughts as she went on listlessly. What dead meat he'd be if she could. "I have nothing to live for. My friends are dying, my family's dead, everybody's world has crumbled. But what about death? I don't even have anything to die for. We are born into this cruel world, we die in this cruel world. What have we fulfilled? I have nothing to die for either."

"Hey," he said uneasily. "You live for your friends, don't you?" Without thinking, his arm slowly wound its way around her thin shoulders, and she whipped her head around to face him, her hair whipping in the wafting breeze. The pointed stare she sent his way was scalding, and Gray squeaked, retracting his hand. "S-Sorry..."

"Do we really? In this battlefield we call life, you still have the heart to think about things like that?" she responded, her tone lachrymose.

"Well, don't you?"

Lucy managed a wry smirk, and a soft, involuntary scoff escaped from her lips. She considered his question, weighing out her options, before saying decisively, "Perhaps." With that, she nudged him away slightly, clambered up, and turned away, preparing to walk back to wherever she came from. However, the minute she stepped down on her right side, she winced, as if she'd stepped on a hot coal. Gray jumped up worriedly.

"What happened with your leg? Lucy? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," said blonde snapped hastily in reply, but wavered all the same, before resigning and taking a few steps backward. Her gaze remained averted from where Gray's stood. Another involuntary sigh escaped passed through her lips, and she ran a hand through her silky golden hair—Gray suddenly wondered how the _heck_ this person standing before him could have such flawless hair in such rough conditions—and amended softly, "It's nothing."

"Well, it couldn't have been nothing if _you_ managed to wince," he pointed out straightforwardly. "Just tell me. You know you can't hide things from me, Lucy."

"Jeez," her tone was laced with acid, "I never." But all the same, she sat back down in her original spot, dangling her legs precariously over the edge of the cliff ledge. Her thigh unknowingly brushed against Gray's—not that he'd ever tell her that, or she'd freak out—and he warmed instantly at the sudden contact. "Gosh, don't remind me of my failures," was all she managed.

"Well, you could tell me and get it over with," he suggested helpfully, albeit unnecessarily, and she shook, looking away.

"Look, Fullbuster, it's nothing. I underestimated the distance between myself and a tree because I was unfocused, and I hurt my leg. Happy?" she breathed resignedly.

Unable to stand the distant, faraway feeling that reflected itself in Lucy's shattered irises, Gray jerked away and hopped up, holding out his hand. For onec, the blonde accepted, and he tugged Lucy up so that the two had both arisen and were standing face-to-face with each other. The brunet scratched the back of his neck sheepishly in the awkward silence that ensued, before—

"Hey, I'd ask if you wanted to fight, but you seem to be in no condition to—" he began cautiously, knowing he was treading on thin ice. Knowing that he had hit his target's sore spot as her eyes were suddenly alight with fire—the exact same, if not fiercer, flames that he had witnessed spreading in his own redhead captain's eyes earlier on in the day. She stepped forward, closing the distance between them, and sized him up, before yanking down on his collar so that their noses were almost touching.

"Don't you even start," she growled threateningly. Hearing the latter's audible gulp, she released his wrinkled jacket and took a step back, examining him with a sly smirk. "Alright."

Before Gray could react, she had pivoted to the side, drawn back her leg with brutal speed and slammed it into his abdomen with a powerful kick, and her opponent collided with the ground with a loud _thump_. Cursing under his breath, he staggered up, stumbling a tad. He rubbed the back of his bruised cranium. "Lucy! What the hell?" he cried rebelliously, and the blonde scrutinized him with a blank expression. Her gaze was riveting, and made his skin crawl.

Lucy stuffed her hands deep down inside of her pockets with a laid-back sigh. "Well? You wanted to fight; now you have a fight." She gestured with her hand teasingly. "_Come._"

"You said so," Gray nodded, and made to direct a punch at her, when she ducked and spun, sweeping her leg underneath his feet. The blonde whipped around then, and the entire lower half of her leg rammed itself into Gray's side. He collapsed, but nimbly pushed himself back up with his palms, flipping into a fighting stance once more. With a raised eyebrow, his opponent acknowledged him under a new light, and he beamed in pride. "Hah, you see?" he boasted, spreading out his arms, allowing her to marvel him under the moonlight, "I've gotten better than you think, Lucy."

"Just admit that you know you're still nowhere near as good as I am," said person rolled her eyes, but the underside of her tone was playful. Gray threw his hands up in the air mockingly with a surrendering nod.

"Alright, alright," he gave in as she crossed her arms. "I'll give you that."

"Psh, you know I was kidding," she scoffed in return, but her expression was soft and unreadable.

"I'm strong now," Gray smiled back at her lowly. He stuffed his hands deep into his pockets.

"I know," came the hushed whisper of a reply. "I know."

* * *

Gray's eyes felt incessantly droopy by the time the sun had risen, and he constantly felt the urge to rub his eyes to oblivion, but wisely decided against the action. Commander Makarov stoutly stepped forward from the line of squad captains and stood squarely in front of the rows and rows of soldier cohorts.

"Our formation yesterday had many flaws," he began, "and we lost many lives, once again." Gray thought he saw a flicker of light pass through Lucy's eyes for a second as she stood in the line of squad leaders. The blonde's arms were crossed.

Commander Makarov continued, oblivious to Gray's wandering thoughts. "Now, we will do something among the Survey Corps that has never been done before. For one month, every squad will alternate between each respective captain." He motioned to the neat line formed behind him, including Lucy and Erza. "Then, that way, you will know what to do if you happen upon another group because you are knowledgeable in all areas of our leaders' teaching the next time we go on an expedition."

A ripple of hushed whispers and discussions surged through the crowd at lightning-quick speed, and Juvia, breaking from her standard position, laid a hand on Gray's shoulder worriedly. "Gray-sama," she whispered, "Juvia has a bad feeling about this." Gray shrugged her off.

"It's okay," he voiced under his breath. "At least we'll stick together."

Beside him, Natsu nudged him sharply with his elbow, and both he and Juvia swiveled around to meet the salmon-haired Titan Shifter's eyes.

"Hey," he frowned, "that means..." He shot a look in the direction of a certain blonde, who was occupied with discussing various matters with their petite, graying leader. Unknowingly, Juvia's eyes darkened, but she said nothing. "We'll be under Luce's watch."

"And?" Gray raised an eyebrow.

"_And,_" Natsu spat, "that means we're fucking screwed."

* * *

"Up, Fullbuster! What are your arms made of? Noodles? I sure hope not!" Lucy barked, swinging her sword around in intricate circles. She strolled up and down between the rows of regiment trainees as they arduously performed pushup after pushup. Shouts and groans of exhaustion manifested everywhere, but the blonde ignored all complaints. Instead, she pushed them harder. Gray grimaced, arms shaking and heart pulsing from the heat of the sun.

"Get going! Five hundred!" she yelled further, hands now behind her back. "The best discipline is not only pain, but memory also. Therefore, this workout will be etched into your memories. And your punishment for slacking off—" She pointed her blade threateningly at each person located in the front line. "—will also be _very_ memorable."

Menacingly, she drew out her second sword and tapped the sharp end of the blade on the ground in constant repetition, when something else caught her attention.

"Oi, Dragneel! What's that look on your face? You want more?" she roared, scowling, and said person shivered.

"N-No ma'am!" he whimpered uncharacteristically, and wheezed as he slowly lowered himself back towards the ground. Lucy whipped back around to see Gray pausing.

"You, Fullbuster!" she shouted, issuing him a death glare. "What are you? A chicken? Even a five-year-old can do pushups faster than you! Hurry up!"

Next to Gray, Juvia groaned and growled under her breath, "That blonde wench!"

Just like that, an entire month of torturous labor ensued.

* * *

Under Lucy's custody, Gray had been picked on and tormented the most out of all his comrades—even _Natsu_, and that guy was a catalyst for trouble—and he would always leave muttering fowl curses and incoherent insults at the blonde.

Moreover, he still had yet to provide the expectant Juvia with a definite conclusion.

Truth be told, Gray had known Juvia for a long time. She had been teased and ostracized by a few bullies at the time they had met, and Gray had fended them off and protected her. After becoming fast friends, they had decided to join the Survey Corps together when the time came, and indeed they had. At the trainees camp, they had met many others whom they soon saw as regular friends also.

Among them was Lucy Heartfilia. She was blunt, cold, aloof, and she always bore a somewhat bored expression upon her pretty face. Despite her lone wolf tendencies, she was an incredible fighter, who was exceptionally skilled and well versed in basically all areas and forms of combat, and Gray had found himself strangely intrigued by her mysterious ways. However, as her father was a powerful, influential member of the king's company, Lucy was eventually sent away, and her whereabouts remained unknown until the selection day, where she mysteriously appeared as one of the squad leaders of the Scouting Legion.

She was like winter.

She was like rain.

_Cold, but beautiful all the same._

And he was drawn to her like a bee to a blooming flower.

* * *

As the Survey Corps prepared to embark on their next expedition beyond the safety of the walls, Gray's eyes found Lucy silently. Her face was calm, stoic, and very angelic—how could she not be scared, though? Did she not harbor any feelings of fear? To his left, Gray could faintly hear Juvia vivaciously muttering prayers of safety for the journey, and he was quite taken aback by the contrast between the two females on his left and right. Either way, he was ripped out of his thoughtful reverie as Makarov yelled for the go, and the troops thundered off through the barred gate.

This time, they were back on the center line—Gray felt an uneasy sense of deja vu prickling down his spine. Although there seemed to be no sign of any Abnormals, he felt nauseated; it was like there was bound to be a crowd of man-eating beasts simply waiting for them amongst the trees, ready for an ambush. It had only been a few days since the last trip—Makarov had called it a risky experiment, and a temporary rain check on the training—and _that_ hadn't necessarily ended on a cheerful note.

A few minutes of nothing but the monotone of hooves thumping against the sunbaked earth passed, and Gray's tensed muscles gradually relaxed. His mind dropped to a hazy state of sub-consciousness, and voices clouded over in his mind.

—

_"Gray-saaaan! Look at the Survey Corps!" A miniature, blue-haired girl, her cerulean locks tumbling over her shoulders, pointed at the procession of soldiers drearily padding their way through the center of the town. Her eyes glimmered in excitement. Beside her, a brunet nodded equally enthusiastically._

_"Heck yeah, Juvi! Look at them! They're so _cool_!" he remarked ecstatically._

_"They are! Are they going on their next expedition?"_

_"Yeah! Man, I'm so jealous of them." The boy sighed dreamily, before perking up. He tugged lightly at the little girl's sleeves. "Hey, Juvi?"_

_"Yes, Gray-san?" Juvia sent him a dazzling smile._

_"Let's go together and join them someday, ne, Juvi?"_

_"Alright, Gray-san!"_

—

_Heh, I never knew being in the corps would be like this..._ Gray mused, when suddenly a sharper, more coherent voice cut in urgently, "Snap out of it, Fullbuster!"

Gray violently shook his head and glanced backwards, and was horrified at the sight of another horde of titans rumbling their way, their sizes varying. He cursed under his breath when he noticed that everybody else in the squad had already ascended into the treetops with their maneuver gear except for him and Lucy.

"Fullbuster, move it!" Lucy yelled, and sequentially leapt onto the back of another horse. Gray, however, wavered and frowned at the sight of bandages still wrapped around her head, but complied, shooting up with his gear and surging towards a larger titan with tufts of brown hair and an oversized head and mouth. It snapped dangerously at his bent legs, but he dodged and speedily swiped across its cheekbone as a distraction. Titan blood splattered onto his trousers, and he kicked its face—avoiding another chomp—and targeted his grappling hook towards its neck. As Gray flew towards its nape, its gigantic head swiveled around at the last second, its gaping mouth open, and he cried aloud in alarm. Nearby, Juvia gasped and screamed.

"_Gray-sama!"_

Everything seemed to decelerate into slow motion in that moment as the titan's mouth almost enclosed over him, its excessively large jaws crackling down upon him, when a quick _swoosh!_ sounded out of the blue and he found himself speeding away from the beast, up high into the air. Looking downwards, Gray noticed an arm wrapped securely around his waist.

"Gray," came a familiar voice beside him, "what were you thinking?" His eyes widened.

"L-Lucy...?" he whispered, shell-shocked and traumatized, and finally his head swiveled around to look up at his savior.

"Don't think too much about it," responded the blonde, stopping on a tree. She pressed her free wrist against her temple with a frown.

Before either of them could react, a lengthy, elongated titan palm smashed into the bark where they were located. In a futile attempt to shield away from any damage, Lucy held up her forearm. Gray tumbled in perpendicular motion to the ground, while Lucy flew out a few yards away, smacking against another tree before landing ungracefully in a roll on the ground.

She cracked an eye open in pain, her world spinning—her wounds from the previous tour had been rather lethal—and gritted her teeth as a titan face leered down at her, coming closer and closer into view as it inspected her. A trail of blood ran down her temple, and she closed her searing eyelids to prevent it from hindering her view. It rolled down her cheek.

Gray pushed himself up and shook his dazed head once more, reaching for his fallen sword. He frantically looked to and fro, and stopped at the sight of his squad leader, lying a little ways away, with a titan—now two—bending over her in ravenous curiosity.

_Why is she not moving?_ he thought desperately, when it suddenly occurred to him that Lucy hadn't fully recovered from her head wounds yet.

Forcing himself upright, he soared off the ground with a yell of fury, and swung downwards, cleanly slicing the napes off both titans. As Lucy fell from one's fist, Gray lunged for her, skidding into the roots of a tree with the impact.

"You embarrass me," muttered the blonde, who wiped the blood off her face with her sleeve. She blinked and slowly lowered her lids. Gray grimaced. Perhaps a simple 'thank you' would have sufficed.

* * *

Lying on his bunk and facing the wall, the feeling of deja vu was stronger than ever for Gray as he recollected the events that had happened earlier. Abrupt footsteps into the room broke him out of his silent reverie, and he twisted his neck slightly to see who it was.

"I just wanted to tell you that I think you're a good person." Her voice rang clear in his head and seemed to reverberate down his spine, and he shivered. Yet, he still didn't turn around as her footsteps faded back out of the doorway, and he was again alone in the room.

A sudden sense of memorable deja vu struck him, and with a smile he flipped back onto his other side so he was facing the door she had previously exited through. Without a second's thought—although it had later occurred to him that this was probably the worst idea _ever_—he shrugged his jacket into place and rushed through the door looming in front of him, straight into the dimmed hallway.

There was only a single glass door at the end of the lengthy hallway, as on both sides of the narrow aisle lay consecutive rooms with their doors closed in equal measure, and Gray could make out Lucy's graceful silhouette striding down the walkway towards the door.

"Lucy!" At the sound of her name, the captain turned, perplexed. Gray bounded down the hallway towards her and skidded to a stop in front of her, effectively blocking her way. For a moment, his breath caught in his throat at how her hair, each golden strand reflecting the magnificent sunset streaking through the glass, seemed much like a halo, framing her face.

Aggravated, Lucy eyed him with caution. She crossed her arms. "Make it quick, Fullbuster." Her tone was clipped, but softer than out on the training fields.

Breathing heavily from his run, Gray closed the distance between them in one step, pulled her towards him, and lowered his head against hers, their lips colliding. Seemingly on impulse, after a moment of brief shock passed over her face, Lucy returned the embrace and wrapped her arms around his neck.

After what seemed like a millennium, they parted, and Lucy blinked, stunned, before releasing a deep sigh. Running a hand through her hand, she offered Gray a half-lidded, genuine smile—Gray never forgot how lovely her real smile was—and wrapped her arms around him in a gingerly hug.

She had started walking away before he knew it.

Rooted to the spot, the brunet called, "Hey!"

"Yes?" she slowed, but did not stop.

"Um, you should smile more." Gray issued her back a sheepish grin, rubbing the back of his neck. With this, she wavered ever so slightly, but picked up her pace again.

"I'll think about it."

"Oh, and one last thing?" Gray interjected, finally.

"What?" Lucy drawled, but not out of complete boredom. She pivoted back around.

"Please, Lucy, don't walk out of my life again. I can't let you keep walking away from me like this." Gray spread his arms out for emphasis, but Lucy only raised an eyebrow and proffered a single line that burned itself into his brain.

"You know I'll always come back anyways."

She turned the corner, then, her blonde hair flowing, and Gray suddenly couldn't seem to shake the notion that bathed in the rays of the setting sun, Lucy looked like an angel rising again.

* * *

**Ah, I know I'm horrible.**


End file.
